


The Battle for Khoonda

by SennyriNamis23



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8565148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennyriNamis23/pseuds/SennyriNamis23
Summary: The mercenaries on Dantooine are gathering their forces to attack the only government on the war-torn planet. Exile and gang are there to help. Meanwhile, though, Atton is injured from their exploits in the Lower Levels of the Jedi Enclave, which forces him and the Exile to start actually examining the feelings they have for each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a warning- there are depictions of battle and injuries (to the torso area) in this. They're not terribly in depth, but are fairly vital to the plot, so if that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. :(

When Atton awoke, he didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t need to see to feel the hard medbay cot beneath him. He didn’t need to see to know that there was something cool on his torso. And sticky. _Kolto_? The sudden burst of pain that shot up from his hip to his chest seemed to answer his next question, and he immediately recoiled, the breath taken from his lungs.

“Whoa, there,” a soft voice came from next to him, a cool hand pressed gently against his bare chest, “easy, Atton. You’re okay.”

He opened an eye briefly to see exactly who he was expecting: _that_ _damn Jedi_. Pretending like she cared about him. Who was she to care about _him_ , anyway? Another lying Jedi, just like the rest, saying you’re okay when there’s very clearly some damn stab wound through your torso.

He was thinking that with less and less conviction these days.

It took a few minutes for his breathing to slow, the shooting pain easing to a manageable, though not insignificant, throbbing. She removed the hand from his chest, but gave the other - which he hadn’t noticed until now - a gentle squeeze in his. He gave a squeeze in return (only as a signal that he was okay, _not_ because he enjoyed the sensation and warmth from her) and turned his head to face her, finally opening his eyes again to see a disheveled woman beside him. Her hair was falling out of the normally pristine braid she kept it in, her eyes had dark bags beneath them, and her robes were wrinkled as if she’d attempted to sleep in that actual chair. The damn woman probably had been there the whole damn night.

“You look delightful,” he said barely above a whisper, without as much sarcasm as he had intended.

She smiled then, smiled at _him_ , “Could say the same about you.”

“At least I got stabbed by laigreks and shot by a psychopath.”

“I’m not sure that’s anything to be proud of,” she teased, but still smiled softly.

She had an answer for everything. Rather than attempt to come back with something snarky like usual, Atton moved his head back and stared at the ceiling, letting the silence settle between them for a moment. He wasn’t up for this today. So he looked at the ceiling for a few minutes, watching as a few white lights blinked slowly. The lights were dimmed, but he could still see the Exile as she reached a hand over his forehead and placed it there softly, like she had on Telos. He could feel the Force streaming from her and into him. More Jedi tricks. But he would be lying if he said it wasn’t soothing.

“I’m guessing by the fancy lights and extra space that we’re not on the Hawk,” he commented absently.

She chuckled, “We’re not on the Ebon Hawk, no.”

A burst of pain shot through him and he cringed, also feeling the Jedi retract her hand slightly, as if she was... _Apologizing_.

“So that would leave, what, Khoonda?”

“You got it.”

“I suppose the Miraluka is still recovering in our medbay,” he grunted, attempting to push away the pain that threatened to overtake him.

“Mhmm,” came her reply, “though Mical checked her over-”

“Hold up. Mical?” His eyes flew open against her hand and she pulled back with those lightning-quick reflexes, “Please tell me that’s not the sniveling historian we bumped into in the ruins. The ship is more than full, and we do _not_ need him snooping around.”

“He’s not going to _snoop around_ ,” she argued, retreating from his line of sight, “We can always use someone good with a blaster or a vibroblade. And he’s got a very unique set of knowledge that could help us.”

“What about Kreia? She seems to think she knows just about everything there is to know about the universe.”

“ _Atton_ ,” she reprimanded. Force, he hated when she got exasperated with him.

“Look, all I’m saying is I don’t trust the guy,” he turned his head to look at her again. She was back in the chair, holding the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her forefinger, eyes closed. Her robes draped around her, and her red hair was flying around the sides of her head. She was exhausted, all but pulling apart at the seams.

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, “Ri, when was the last time you actually slept?”

She chuckled and opened her eyes to look at him. Those piercing blue eyes that could heal a galaxy if she looked at the right people, and they were looking at him.

“It’s been, uh, a couple days, I think.”

 _Figures_. Using his arms as much as he could, Atton shifted to the far side of the bed, gritting his teeth against the impending shots of pain; they didn’t come as hard as he had anticipated, but he refused to chalk it up to her Force magic.

He patted the bed gently, “Come on.”

She hesitated, looking from him to the bed and back to him, not saying anything, but very clearly a little dubious.

“Sennyri,” he said, a bit more forcefully, “you have to sleep. You won’t help anyone all bleary-eyed and exhausted.”

She sighed in resignation and dropped her cloak, stepping up to the side of the bed. “I can use a different bed if you’d prefer.”

He shook his head decidedly, and patted the empty patch of mattress again, “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get up and run off.”

She blew out of her nose in a half-hearted laugh, but didn’t argue. Instead, she sat on the mattress before sidling up next to him. He wrapped his arm around her, took his hand, and rubbed her shoulder gently. She curled up into herself as far as she could, and Atton could tell she was trying very hard not to touch his injury. But she was still so close, he could feel her warmth, he could feel her exhaustion, and he almost thought he could feel the whole galaxy inside of her. With all of her power and strength, he had all but forgotten that she was still very fragile and soft.

Atton had imagined on more than a few occasions what it would be like to sleep with her. But he had to admit, none of them were like this.

And when he woke up again, she was gone. But his arm was still tingling from where her head had rested. The damn woman. Always rushing off to solve another crisis.

\---

Sennyri sat at the edge of the bed in the medbay, her head in her hands. She felt… afraid. It had been so long since she had been physically close to anyone, and she certainly hadn’t expected to fall asleep beside Atton, of all people. A voice in her head tugged at her, begging her to recognize her emotions, but she pushed it aside, instead reciting the first lines of the Jedi Code as a mantra.

_There is no emotion, there is only peace._

Atton stirred beside her, and at first she thought he might have woken up, but he let out a soft snore and settled back into the bed. All the same, there was no need to hang around any longer. It was slightly after dawn, and she still had to find Master Vrook before the mercenaries did anything irreparable…

So she grabbed her cloak and boots and left without a sound. But she did turn back to look at him again.

\---

Atton was not healed enough to go into a battle and he knew it. But he’d be damned if he had to wait on the ship or in that damned medbay. Khoonda needed all the help it could get, and it’s pathetic militia was not nearly enough to keep an army of mercenaries at bay. Sennyri had been running around all morning setting up mines, fixing the turrets, sealing doors, and recruiting more people around Dantooine for the militia. The Zabrak had followed her, as well as that damn historian.

Atton wasn’t gonna sit on his ass while that idiot got to stand beside the Exile and fight.

He’d wrapped himself up well enough. Still hurt like hell when he touched it, but with any luck, he wouldn’t have to start feeling himself up in the midst of a battle anyway. He’d gotten his shirt and vest on through sheer willpower alone, gritting his teeth the whole time. He had even managed to get himself to the armory, and picked out a couple good blasters he knew would deliver a punch, but wouldn’t recoil tremendously. Well, there was nothing else for it but to let Sennyri know he was ready to go and that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

But as soon as he turned around, there she was, leaning up against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“You telepathic now?” Atton accused.

She shrugged, “Figured you’d try something.”

Holstering the guns, he stood wide and stared her down, “You need all the help you can get and you know it.”

“How much help are you going to be if you can’t even pull your own shirt on?”

“More help than those farmers you got,” he frowned and crossed his arms, “They couldn’t hit the broad side of a Boma with automatic targeting.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Since when did you start caring about the folks on Dantooine?”

“I _don’t_ ,” he retorted, “But _you_ do. And you’re the one with the ship.”

At first it looked like she might continue to argue, but she rubbed her eyes and sighed, “Fine. But stay close to me, and don’t do anything stupid.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, “I didn’t think you cared so much about me.”

She rolled her eyes, turning to leave, “I _don’t_. But you’re the pilot of _my_ ship and I don’t want to find a replacement.”

Atton allowed himself a smile, feeling smug after his small victory, even when the searing pain in his torso forced him to prop himself up with his hand on the table. He was going to regret this later…

\---

“Dantooine's short history has been of rugged people surmounting difficult odds. Never have the odds been so great or the future uncertain, but today is your chapter, your tale. Generations yet born will look upon this battle with pride and wonder. I will not lie, the risks are great. The threat is real, but I would stand beside any of you proudly as we face our destiny on the field of battle. This is our day, our valiant chance to free Dantooine. Who will fight beside me?”

Her voice rang out loud and clear throughout the yard of Khoonda, and even though Atton leaned up against the wall away from the crowd of militia, scavengers, and farmers, he, too, could feel the emotion in her words. Just looking at her was enough to plant a fire in a man’s soul, ready to fight for whatever she was. The crowd agreed with him, and they whooped and hollered, raising their pistols in the air.

Sennyri looked over to him and gave him a once-over before addressing the crowd again, “Everyone, to your stations!”

There was more yelling as they dispersed into the field, facing the narrow bridge where the mercenaries would appear any moment now. Atton removed himself from the wall, feeling his stomach throb painfully, and went to join up with their valiant leader. She’d insisted he stay close, after all.

Her eyes were bright and fiery, full of passion as he went up to her, “So, how’d I do?”

He suppressed every sincere reaction in his body and shrugged, “It was alright.”

Sennyri shook her head and he smiled, until she asked him, “Are you still up for this? There’s no shame in heading back to the ship if you’re not ready.”

Atton pursed his lips and frowned, “Of course I’m still up for this. Just because they’re excited doesn’t mean they’ve got good aim now.”

“Alright,” she replied, putting a hand out in front of him, “but at least let me ease the pain for awhile.”

He could feel his whole body clench, desperately pushing aside the waves of pain, nausea, and fear. The blood drained from his face, making him light-headed and woozy.

But there she was, one hand on his chest again, the other on his back, holding him up.

“Whoa, hey there,” she said, and he could feel the change in her as she channeled the Force through her palm, “It won’t hurt. I promise.”

He nodded, gritting his teeth and expecting the worst, but as her hand worked in circles down his torso, he didn’t get the stabbing he expected. Her hand was cool through the bandages, and he could feel his entire body relaxing to her touch. She was close, so close he could hear her breathing, he could feel her concentrating, he could see the pulsing in her temples. The fear, nausea, and pain abated significantly, and he was feeling like he might just be ready for a fight. It might have been the Force, but it also might have just been her that put his mind and body at ease.

That was a bag of mynocks he didn’t need to open.

A minute or so later she removed her hand from his front side, and gave him a wink, “Don’t forget to stay close.”

“Whatever you say.”

\---

Sennyri had been working on her battle meditation, but she still wasn’t sure how effective it would be. Still, it had to be better than nothing.

As soon as she could sense the mercenaries on the move, she’d sat down in the middle of the yard and concentrated all of her energies into rallying the militia. Atton was behind her, silent - for once. She centered herself, calmed her breathing, and sent out as much energy as she could into those standing before her. When she opened her eyes again and stood, nothing had changed, but she could feel the difference in the people around her. They were focused, serious, ready.

When the mercenaries came into sight, she flicked on her lightsaber, holding it in front of her as both ends burst out in a vibrant blue. She had kept Mical inside Khoonda as a final defense for Administrator Adare, but Bao-Dur and Atton both stood beside her, guns drawn and ready. Zherron had taken a second group to guard the back doors to Khoonda, and Master Vrook was still out in the mercenary camp, which was just fine with her.

The rush of adrenaline that came with battle always made Sennyri uncomfortable, no matter how many times she had experienced it. Watching the mercenaries rush over their dead comrades who had tripped the mines certainly did not help, but she held her composure, refusing to let it slip through her fingers. This was a war, and she needed to be strong for the settlers who were depending on her.

She looked at the two boys beside her, breathing deeply before she ran headlong into the thick of it.

Blaster bolts were flying around her, and she found herself redirecting the mercenary shots back to their owners with her lightsaber more than actually attacking them. And once she found herself surrounded by about a dozen of them, she concentrated her energy into a wave of Force, knocking them all down, making them easy targets for militia.

The first wave of the mercenaries was dwindling, but as a second group approached over the horizon, she heard Zherron through the commlink.

“There aren't enough soldiers, fall back inside.”

“On it,” she replied through the com before projecting as loudly as she could over the battle, “Everyone! Back inside!”

Atton and Bao-Dur were close behind her as she ran back into Khoonda, with the militia a bit further back.

“Berun,” she called to Zherron’s lieutenant, “make sure everyone gets inside. And lock the doors when you come in. Let me know if there’s any trouble.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once back inside Khoonda, Sennyri took her group to the hallway just before Terena’s office, posting as many of them as she could around the more vulnerable doorways, barricading whatever they could. Zherron and his group had rejoined them, and he had gone back inside Terena’s office to bolster her defenses. So when Azkul’s army finally breached the entrance, Sennyri was left in charge. And Azkul didn’t hesitate to address her.

“So you're the Jedi,” he snarled, “I take it you're the one responsible for the surprises we’ve encountered during this battle. Stand aside. Our quarrel is with the distinguished administrator. This isn't your problem.”

Sennyri felt herself bristle. “I won't let you kill her,” she said firmly, staring unblinking into the eyes of the mercenary.

He didn’t back down, scowling at her with a barely controlled anger, “Then you've allied with these flaming settlers. The galaxy doesn't tolerate weakness. I was trained at Malak’s academy. Your tricks won't work on me. You're just another dead Jedi to me.”

Of course she’d known it would come to this, but Sennyri always hated the feeling of an inevitable fight. She felt her stomach drop as Azkul’s men and droids readied their weapons. However, another presence appeared beside her: Dopak, Azkul’s second-in-command. But she didn’t feel any enmity from him and a tiny spark of hope lit inside her.

Instead, he spoke up _against_ Azkul, “I didn't sign on for this cold-blooded slaughter, Azkul.”

“I was wondering when you would turn on me, Dopak,” Azkul scoffed, “I've sent your final wages to your children. Along with a detonator.”

And of course it was that moment that Master Vrook reappeared, remarking snidely, “Sorry I was held up. But it looks like I've arrived in time to pull you out of your predicament.”

“Kill them all,” came Azkul’s only steely reply.

The Jedi barely had enough time to extend their sabers before the first shots were fired, and in such close quarters, it was all Sennyri could do at first to block their fire and protect the people around her. Atton was directly at her back, firing at the opposite end of the narrow hallway; Bao-Dur was on her left, but had left her immediate side to destroy a shielded enemy droid with his prosthetic arm; and Dopak stood to her right, firing with all his concentration directly for Azkul. She could sense the fatigue of those around her - mercenaries and militia both - and she knew she had to do something. Sennyri herself was running out of energy, but she drew a breath and held up a hand, drawing the Force from around her, and focusing it into an electrical charge that she pushed out as hard as she could. The lights in the building began to go out, the bulbs popping with the overage of power, and the sockets in the walls began to spark. The levels of fear in those fighting escalated, but that wasn’t something Sennyri had the luxury of thinking about at present.

Azkul had somehow managed to survive the electrical shock and began to leap over the bodies of those who had fallen in front of him. And just as he came within reach of the Jedi, Sennyri saw Dopak aim quickly, and felt another blaster just over her shoulder. Two shots came in rapid succession. One hit Azkul directly in the middle of his forehead, the other burned a hole through the side of his neck.

“That was a nice shot,” Dopak said, blowing the smoke from the end of his blaster.

Atton was still behind her, but Sennyri could hear how smug he was, “Thanks. Yours was alright, too.”

What few enemy mercenaries remained surrendered without much of a fight after that. There were a few dozen injured, and about the same were dead, although far more mercenaries than militia. Mical had opened the door to the Administrator’s office and quickly offered to help the wounded. He was eager and enthusiastic, she had to give him that.

True to his word, Atton was still close when the fighting had ended. His hair was a bit disheveled, and he didn’t stand quite as straight as normal, but otherwise looked relatively unharmed. A blaster bolt had caught the side of his arm, but he didn’t seem particularly bothered by it.

“You doing okay?” she asked, trying not to sound terribly concerned.

“Of course I am,” he replied with his typical vibrato, dismissing her with a wave of his hand, “Go get your hero’s welcome, or whatever.”

She rolled her eyes, but reached out to touch his uninjured arm, “I’ll be back.”

She honestly couldn’t say why she felt like she needed to touch him. She’d held his hand in the medbay, touched his head back on Telos, hugged him after they’d gotten out of the asteroid field around Peragus. She’d never had any sort of impulse like that before. Maybe coming back from the depths of space had made her need physical touch. Or maybe the Force was trying to tell her something…

\---

Atton’s whole body tingled after Sennyri had gone into the Administrator’s office. But as soon as the last adrenaline rush began to subside, everything started to ache. And he realized he’d actually been hit by a blaster at some point, if the burn on his arm was any indication.

He groaned and leaned back against the wall behind him, knowing that he wasn’t coming back up if he sunk to the floor. Maybe if he closed his eyes, everything would be fine.

“You alright, Atton?” Came the familiar voice of Bao-Dur.

He nodded and gave a thumbs up, “Never been better.”

The Zabrak let out a laugh, “I find that hard to believe. Let me know if you need anything.”

Atton gave a salute, his eyes still closed, “Will do.”

As soon as Bao-Dur had turned the corner back towards the medbay, Atton’s legs gave out from under him and he slid down the wall as gracefully as he could. Everything hurt; his head was pounding, his legs burned, his already-wounded torso was threatening to overtake him, and on top of that his flaming arm ached in the background as if he wouldn’t notice.

He’d really gone and outdone himself this time.

\---

“Sennyri, thank you so much for your aid,” Terena embraced the Exile and held eye contact for longer than she was comfortable with, “You can be assured that Dantooine will not forget how you protected them.”

She smiled wearily, “I am happy to help.”

“We are a humble community. And this conflict has greatly diminished our resources. I hope this reward will be sufficient.” Terena held out a wad of credits, but Sennyri held up her hands and shook her head.

“No, no. Please, keep the credits and use them to rebuild Khoonda. They’ll be put to much better use here.”

The Administrator was taken aback. She hesitated, but the Exile’s tone was firm and clear. So Terena locked the credits back in her desk.

“I am humbled by your generosity. I will put this to good use,” she said, then motioned to Zherron, “Now if you'll excuse me I have much work to do. Dantooine will be slow to rebuild, but I am confident now that we will one day achieve prosperity.”

Sennyri nodded and bowed out of their way, leaving her alone with a perpetually grumpy and ungrateful Jedi Master.

But to her surprise, Vrook bowed his head slightly and spoke sincerely, “Khoonda is safe in no small part due to you. I feel certain that the Administrator would not have made it without your assistance. I may have misjudged you. In any case, I am free to talk about whatever you wish.”

“With all due respect, Master Lamar,” she said, carefully choosing her words, “I think I need to help repair the damage done today. Perhaps later we can discuss some things.”

He nodded slowly, “Of course. I’ll be here when you are ready. There are also a few things I would like to teach you before you leave Dantooine.”

She could feel her heart pounding and her stomach clench, but Sennyri pushed aside the impending panic attack and gave a bow to Master Vrook before leaving the room.

To her surprise, Dopak was waiting for her just outside the Administrator’s office.

“Dopak,” she greeted, if not as enthusiastically as she would have liked, “Is there anything you need me for?”

“No, no,” he said warmly, “I just wanted to tell you that it was pretty brave of you to stand up to Azkul like that. Your resolve made me finally take action against him.”

Sennyri smiled, “Thank you for joining me in the battle. Your aid made the difference between success and defeat.”

“I am happy to hear that. I really am,” he said, turning to leave, “Thanks again. And good luck to you.”

She waved a goodbye, feeling the panic attack returning as she looked at the bodies still on the floor. But she threw those thoughts aside as best she could, taking as deep a breath as the nausea would allow her; she had things she needed to do and militia to patch up, things to focus on to keep her in the present. First things first, though, she had to make sure Atton hadn’t done anything stupid.

Sure enough, he was exactly where she’d left him, except slumped on the floor with one hand to his forehead and the other against his torso. Even from the distance, she could see the red peeking through the bandages. Stars above, the scoundrel was bleeding.

It took everything in her not to sprint the length of the hallway to him, and he opened an eye, watching her through his fingers, a twisted grimace on his face.

“Hey, look who’s back,” he said, putting as much confidence into it as he could.

“I was gone for all of ten minutes,” Sennyri replied quietly, dropping her cloak on the floor and squatting beside him.

“Well, it felt like hours.”

“I’m sure it did,” she said, gently pushing his knees away from his chest so she could get a better angle.

He groaned, but didn’t seem to have the energy to stop her. She slid off his vest as gently as she could, and pulled his shirt up around his shoulders, working quickly with the hands of a woman who had done this dozens of times throughout the Mandalorian Wars. As she was unwrapping the bloodied bandage, he inhaled sharply and squeezed her shoulder, trying very hard to keep himself together.

“Sorry, Atton,” Sennyri whispered, feeling her own heart breaking for him.

He didn’t reply, but once she finally gathered what was left of her own strength and began to work the Force through her hands and into him, his face relaxed slightly and he let go of her shoulder. She worked for an hour, moving her hands in circles up and down his torso, trying to both repair the additional damage he’d done to himself as well as numb as much pain as she could. On a good day she couldn’t have healed him completely, but after a long day of preparations and battle, she was exhausted herself. And it was much easier to numb the pain than to repair the flesh. So she numbed as much as she could while assuring he could make it back to the Ebon Hawk safely. There was no need to stick him in the medbay in Khoonda with the militia and mercenaries…

\---

“Atton,” he heard her call softly, rubbing his arm gently. Why was she always so gentle? His eyes had been closed the whole time she had been beside him, and as she had slowly taken the pain, his own exhaustion had set in.

“ _Atton_ ,” she repeated, clearly waiting for him to acknowledge her.

“I’m here,” he said, still keeping his eyes shut.

“Are you okay to get up?”

She pulled his shirt back down and he winced. Strong start. “Do I have to?”

She sighed, “We have to get you back to the ship, and I can’t just carry you.”

He paused, silently cursing out whatever Power had caused this to happen, “Alright. Give me a minute.”

“Take as much time as you need.”

She took her hand off his arm and he opened his eyes, watching her grab her cloak off the floor and throw it around her shoulders gracefully. The bags under her eyes were darker than they had been the night before, but even so, Atton found himself staring at her and thinking she was beautiful. She was sleep-deprived, and she was crazy, and she tried a little too hard sometimes, but she was beautiful. And when she caught him looking at her, her first reaction was to smile and roll her eyes.

Oh damn it all.

When she held out her hand, he took it and held on tight as she hauled him from the floor. They both grunted - she from the effort it took, and him from the movement - and they both nearly crashed to the floor as Atton lost his footing and fell into her.

Silently mortified, Atton just smirked, “Think I’m close enough?”

She rolled her eyes again, “I think you’re an idiot.”

As soon as he was balanced, she took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, holding his hand there. She took her other hand and wrapped it around his backside. It took their collective strength to get back to the Ebon Hawk, but somehow, she’d done it.

No one was there to greet them, of course. It seemed the Miraluka had set up in the starboard dormitory, if the robed shadow sitting in meditation was any indication. And, mercifully, Kreia was nowhere in sight. The old witch was probably brooding on the other side of the ship.

The astromech droid appeared from the engine room as they neared the medbay, though, beeping delightedly at the sight of the Exile.

Sennyri smiled and addressed it, “Hey, there, buddy. How’s she doing?”

More incomprehensible beeping came from the little machine.

“That’s good to hear,” she replied, “Do you think you could get the things in the medbay running?”

It gave a beep to the affirmative and scooted off down the hallway.

They rounded the turn into the small medbay, and Atton sat on the edge of the cot while Sennyri untangled herself from him. A few strands of hair fell out of her braid and into her face, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t feel the need to move them. Atton couldn’t help but smile.

“What’s that look for?” She asked as she turned him gently and urged him to lie down.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, looking up at her and into those blue eyes. Force, it had been a long day already.

She shook her head and went back to work, “Whatever you say.”

Atton closed his eyes, and almost immediately fell asleep.

\---

When Sennyri had finally left the Ebon Hawk, it was nearly an hour later. She’d set up the devices to monitor Atton’s condition, programming them to alert her commlink if anything went wrong. And she’d also been stopped by the Miraluka. Visas.

She seemed nice enough, and certainly very knowledgeable, but Sennyri knew she was hiding some deep internalized injuries - likely mental as much as physical. The Exile had made a mental note to try and coax Visas out of her shell a bit and earn her trust. At any rate, she didn’t seem like a flight risk, and she didn’t seem to be itching to get back her “Master”, whichever flaming bloody Sith that one was. Visas didn’t seem to know his actual name, but she’d told Sennyri enough to convince her that he was involved in the reappearance of the Sith. So, Sennyri had offered her a place on the Ebon Hawk. Atton would just have to suck it up. Maybe between her and Mical, they could put together the pieces and figure out what was going on.

At any rate, that wasn’t Sennyri’s greatest concern at the moment; she’d said she was going to help Khoonda get back up and running, and she was going to. As she walked back into building, she saw Bao-Dur replacing lights in the hallways.

“General,” he said as he stood on a short stool, “could you hand me that light?”

“Of course,” Sennyri replied, reaching down and picking up the bulb on the floor near her feet, “Is there anything else I can do?”

He took the light from her and shook his head, “I think Mical was hoping you could help him in the medbay with the wounded. Maybe if he has changed his mind you could help me with repairs, but I’ve got my remote and we’re making good progress as it is.”

“Sounds good,” Sennyri replied, “You know where to find me if you need me.”

“Of course, General.”

She’d always appreciated Bao-Dur’s demeanor; he was very easy to be around after a long day. There were never any expectations of conversation, and he never minced words when he did use them. Truth be told, she’d rather help him make electrical repairs than deal with the dozens of wounded who were spilling out of the medbay. But they needed her help more, and she needed to make sure they knew she was grateful for their part in the battle that had taken place earlier. Force, it already felt like days ago.

Before she turned towards the medbay, however, she noticed Atton’s vest still on the floor. He was going to murder her if that got left here. So she strode down to where it was, wondering just how she was going to carry it… She couldn’t just hold the vest in one hand and use the other to bandage up militia.

It was a vest, though… she could just _wear_ it.

_Force, no, that would be so inappropriate._

But she didn’t really have too many other options; walking all the way back to the Ebon Hawk was a tremendous waste of time and energy, her pack wasn’t exactly built to carry clothing, and she couldn’t risk putting it down and then forgetting about it.

Sennyri frowned and sighed. Well, no one was really around. She looked around quickly as she shrugged off her cloak. No one appeared around the corner, and she didn’t hear any footsteps. Silently, she picked up his vest and threw it on; she couldn’t help but notice how much it smelled like him. It was sweaty and musty and he probably hadn’t bothered to wash it in months, but it was oddly comforting. It was also a couple sizes too big for her, but no one should notice it under her cloak anyway.

So, she slid her arms back through her own cloak and hurried back past Bao-Dur, who thankfully said nothing and continued working, to the medbay to patch up whoever she could.

\---

It must have been a few hours before Atton woke up again. The ship was quiet as ever, save for the low beeping of the machines in the medbay and the occasional noise from the astromech droid, who evidently liked to chatter to itself while it worked.

He moved his hands and feet slowly, trying to figure out what still hurt. His headache had receded, which was a great help to his functioning abilities, and his legs seemed to have recovered, as well. The arm that got hit by a blaster still ached, and his torso still did, too, but those also had eased.

Well, maybe he could get himself to the cockpit and start getting the Ebon Hawk ready to go. There was a tube of kolto next to him, as well as a package of bandaging. So, he pushed himself into a sitting position at the end of the bed and took off his shirt, grunting as he did so, but without the same searing pains he had earlier in the day. That damn Jedi seemed to have fixed him right up. She probably overworked herself in the process, too. Not that he really cared. Well, maybe a little.

Atton shook his head and reached for the kolto. He hit the end of it a couple times to loosen up the liquid inside, and opened the cap. And just as he squeezed the tube to get a bit on his hands, the whole thing seemed to fly out, and there was kolto _everywhere_.

“Perfect,” he muttered, and immediately heard footsteps coming up the ramp into the ship and the voices of the historian, the Zabrak, and the Jedi.

“I would like to take a look at the transcripts of your trial,” the historian said eagerly, “With your permission, of course.”

“You’re more than welcome to look at whatever records you’d like,” Sennyri replied.

Bao-Dur was talking to his remote, and Atton couldn’t quite catch what he was saying, but he was far too occupied trying to clean up the kolto on his hands and arms and torso to care. The last thing he needed was the Exile to see him with the stuff all over him.

But of course, she came right in as he was smearing some of the extra on his stomach.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the recommended way to apply kolto,” she said, hanging in the doorway, smiling broadly.

Atton scowled at her, “I’ve got it under control.”

“Sure you do.” She rolled her eyes and came in, throwing his vest on the chair beside him, and dropping her cloak.

He threw his hands in the air, “Fine. If you’re such an expert, you do it.”

She looked at him and started to wipe off some of the kolto from his hands and arms, “Did you think I came in just to laugh at you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

She shook her head, but didn’t stop what she was doing. As her hands went up and down his torso to scrape off and then reapply the kolto, Atton felt the arousal in his pants. He desperately tried to push the thoughts and images aside, but she just kept _touching_ him. Her hands were calloused, but gentle, and her face was just so focused, he could see everything. Her eyes, her hair, even her nose was just so perfect. As he felt his dick harden, he desperately prayed that she wouldn’t notice.

The snort she let out immediately alerted him otherwise, and he closed his eyes and exhaled. _Fuck_.

Thankfully, she didn’t say anything aloud, continuing to bandage up his torso silently.

When she finished, she backed up a step and looked at her handiwork, “How does that feel? Too tight?”

He shook his head, “It’s good. Thanks.”

She wiped her hands off on a cloth on the other side of the small room, “No problem. Are you up for flying? I can have Bao-Dur take the controls if you need some extra time.”

“I got it,” he replied quickly, “Some Jedi fixed me up earlier. Probably hurt herself in the process, but I feel like a new man.”

That got a chuckle out of her as she turned back to face him and leaned up against the counter, “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m going to go clean up and do a few things, but I’ll let you know when we’re all ready to take off.”

He nodded and she headed out of the medbay, “Sounds good.”

“And put your shirt back on,” she called playfully.

\---

The warm water from the refresher felt better than Sennyri probably would have liked to admit. It seemed like every single one of her muscles had been tense and aching, and the shower was helping tremendously. Cleaning herself up was also relaxing in itself. She finally had a chance to scrub off the dirt and sweat and blood that had been sitting on her all afternoon.

And she had a lot to think about; she’d finally gotten back to Vrook and they had talked for a long time about the state of the galaxy, and of the Sith, and of Sennyri herself. As much as she hated it, she’d been unsettled by his attitude and his lack of empathy. He was just as unforgiving and obstinate as he had been ten years ago, refusing to even look at what the Jedi might have done wrong. He still blamed _her_ for all the violence that Revan had caused.

Vrook had dredged up so many painful memories, and Sennyri had found herself becoming emotional again. She’d managed to outrun the memories of the war for so long, and she didn’t want to have to face them. No matter how many times she recited the Code, she couldn’t get the images of war out of her head. In the heat of battle, with her adrenaline pumping and drawing from the strength of those around her, she could focus on the present and not have the memories running rampant through her mind, playing mercilessly on repeat. But now, as she stood with the warm water running over her skin, with nothing to keep her mind in the present, she just kept reliving the war. Reliving Serocco, reliving Onderon, reliving Malachor V. She shuddered at the name of the last, feeling herself shaking and giving in to the uncontrollable sobbing that always happened when she saw the bodies again.

It took what seemed like a lifetime to pull herself back together enough to feel like she could leave the safety of the cubicle. After she turned off the water and pulled on a clean set of robes, she could feel the exhaustion setting in. Tending to the militia and teasing Atton could only prolong the inevitable for so long. Crying in the shower probably hadn’t helped, either. She had planned on talking with Visas again, but just didn’t have the energy to do it, so she walked barefooted up to the cockpit. Better just to move on to the next planet, get some rest, and reassess.

Atton heard her quiet footsteps as she entered, “She’s ready when you are. Where did you want to head next?”

Sennyri stifled a yawn and sat in the co-pilot’s seat before replying, “I don’t know, Nar Shaddaa? You seem to like it there.”

He laughed, “No one _likes_ it on Nar Shaddaa. But now is as good a time as any. I’ll set the trajectory.”

She just nodded before curling up sideways in the chair, her feet dangling off the armrest and her head against the back, closing her eyes and falling asleep.

\---

Atton had managed to suppress his surprise when she had settled into the chair beside him. Usually, she had preferred to sleep or meditate in one of the dormitories. But she was full of surprises these days. He was also surprised to discover that his vest had been returned when she came back on board, and that it smelled like her. It was unmistakeable, even through his own scent. He’d been puzzled for a minute or two, but decided it probably wasn’t worth asking about.

Still, it was pleasant. Even if it really pointed out that he needed to wash it.

He looked over to Sennyri; she was curled up and breathing softly. She’d kept her hair down as it dried, and it spilled over the side of the chair. A lesser man might have reached out and run his fingers through it, but Atton was not that man. Not today, anyway.

She was a mystery to him; how she could care about and help the very people who hated her most, how she could be so soft and gentle after spending nearly a decade fighting the deadliest war the galaxy had seen in generations. She had scars, including the one that ran through her left ear down to her jaw, and she had memories she didn’t want to bring up, but who didn’t? And she was beautiful on top of all that.

He could get used to a full ship if it meant she sat up here more often.

**Author's Note:**

> A super-duper self-indulgent piece for No Shame November. It was supposed to be a quick one-shot, but got out of hand... Whoops. You also might have noticed that my username is the name of my Jedi Exile, so if that doesn't speak to how self-indulgent this is, I don't know what does. If I hadn't been using this username for eons at this point, I'd consider changing it... Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed my favorite slow-burn ship.


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